


and you see (right through me)

by ShippingEverything



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Fallinel, M/M, Pre-Slash, just a couple of boys talking about figuring themselves out, theres some pining and some jealousy and a lot of self doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 02:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22328542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingEverything/pseuds/ShippingEverything
Summary: Or: Fabian broods, Cathilda gives some advice, and Ragh has a chat
Relationships: Ragh Barkrock/Fabian Aramais Seacaster, but only sort of???
Comments: 8
Kudos: 61





	and you see (right through me)

**Author's Note:**

> this is my 100th fic on ao3! wow!
> 
> anyway, i am STARVING for fabragh so i banged out this quick little thing. title from _Space Date_ by fredo disco
> 
> please enjoy!

There’s a lot going on right now. Fabian knows this. He knows that meeting his grandpapa has been a bit of a wash, that this forest is creepy as fuck, that they still barely know where Adaine is or how they’re going save her. He knows all of this.

It still doesn’t stop him from feeling the rough twist of jealousy in his stomach as he leans against the van’s hood, watching Ragh talk to the elf he hooked up with last night.

Fabian just doesn’t _get it_.

The elf looks like a _stiff wind_ could knock him over and Ragh was in love with _Dayne Blayde_ for a _ridiculous_ amount of time. Dayne may've been an eye-stealing douchebag with a soul that Fabian hopes will never rest, but he was also _stacked_. Ragh’s always been into muscular, powerful, strong men; charismatic and strapping bloodrush players rather than _scrawny forest teens_ with _weird elf voices_ and _mysterious grapes_.

He wonders if it’s the hair; though the elf's hair is a different shade than he remembers Dayne’s being, Ragh could just like blonds. _Plenty of people have blond hair_ , Fabian thinks, narrowing his eyes as the elf strokes Ragh’s arm. _Fabian_ could even have blond hair. His hair is light enough to dye any color, if he wanted.

Not that he wants.

“Fabian, dear, you’re crushing your sandwich,” Cathilda says, interrupting his thoughts and pressing a soft hand against his. Fabian unclenches his hands, relaxes his jaw, and takes a bite of the delicious sandwich Cathilda has made for him.

“Thank you, Cathilda.” He says, mouth still a bit full. Cathilda tuts at him, so he finishes chewing and says, “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, dearie, just…” Cathilda trails off, humming thoughtfully. “Did you know, when your parents first met, they fought?”

“And mama took out papa’s eye so he proposed on the spot, yes, I’ve heard,” Fabian responds, voice flat. For various reasons, thinking about how both of his parents were strong and capable and amazing isn’t comforting right now.

“No, no, _before_ that,” Cathilda corrects. Fabian raises an interested eyebrow and she continues, “They fought several times. In their first fight, your mother nearly took your father’s head off, but he managed to escape with his life and the sleeve of her coat.”

“Her sleeve? What did he want with that?”

“He said it was a trophy, took it everywhere and told stories of how he bested an Elven mercenary. Obviously, that kind of posturing caught your mother’s attention so they kept on finding and fighting each other. He’d always say he hated her, but, well... Your father was a great many things, but _subtle_ certainly wasn’t one of them. His face whenever he saw her ship coming for us…” Cathilda sighs then shakes her head as though to clear the memory away. “You are a great deal like your father, Fabian.”

“... Thank you, Cathilda,” Fabian says, something in his chest twisting. Cathilda chuckles, gentle, chiding. When Fabian starts to protest, she just pats his leg.

“That wasn’t a compliment.” She says, smiling nonetheless. “I’ll tell you what I told him, dear. No one can read your mind. If you want someone to notice you, for _whatever_ reason, you have to talk to them.”

“I- what? What are you _talking_ about?”

“Call it maid’s intuition,” She offers, beginning to walk away. Fabian stands fully, alarmed.

“Is that something Maids have? Cathilda! You can’t just tell me a new Maid fact and leave!” Fabian sighs as Cathilda purposefully ignores him, joining Sandralynn in talking to some of the older elves. He goes to lean back on the hood and nearly jumps right back off when he turns to see that Ragh’s joined him on the hood. “Christ, where did you come from?”

“I was just over there,” Ragh says, gesturing vaguely towards the teenage elves, all of whom are now spinning with silks and making a vague but beautiful humming noise. Fabian makes a noise that sounds startlingly close to a growl, completely involuntarily.

“Yes, with my cousin.”

“Oh, bro, if it weird that it’s your cousin? If it makes you feel any better, I’m not going to see him again,” Ragh says, throwing a look over his shoulder at the other teens. “I didn’t ask for his number or anything, not that they have phone numbers here, but-”

Fabian falters in his annoyance. “You don’t want to see him again?”

“Yeah, no. It was fun for one night, I guess, but he was a little... _Weird_ about it.” Ragh makes a face and crosses his arms tight against his chest. There’s a wrinkle in his brow betraying the stress held there, and for a wild moment, Fabian wishes he could reach up and smooth it out.

“Oh. I thought that blonds were your type.” Fabian offers, suddenly nervous about Ragh's response. He takes another bite of his sandwich, to give his mouth something to do.

“I don’t know,” Ragh shrugs. He worries his top lip with one of his tusks as he runs a hand through his hair. “I haven’t put a lot of thought into what ’my type’ is. I’m still getting used to, like, being _allowed_ to be into guys. I’m just trying to figure stuff out, you know?”

Something in Fabian’s chest twists, aches. He isn’t sure who he is right now; he doesn’t know if he’s still the same Fabian Aramais Seacaster, Son of Bill Seacaster, that he was when this journey started, if he has _ever_ truly filled the mold that he and his father cast, or if it matters either way. He nods, clears his suddenly tight throat. “I get that.”

Ragh grins at Fabian, radiant, like Fabian's done something wonderful just by agreeing with him, and he gently punches Fabian's arm. “I knew you would, dude.”

As Ragh settles onto the van, his shoulder resting against Fabian’s, as Fabian leans into it and something under his ribcage feels full to bursting, Fabian thinks that maybe all the swirling questions in his head matter a little less. He’s Fabian Seacaster, sophomore, on a maybe-doomed trip with friends who trust and support him against all odds, and maybe that’s all he needs to be right now.

**Author's Note:**

> cathilda, watching fabian scowl about ragh from afar: i cant go through this again, i Have to put a stop to the seacaster nonsense this time
> 
> thanks so much for reading, i hope you liked it! comments, kudos, and bookmarks are All much appreciated
> 
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